


Infamous Secrets

by Gladrial, HenchwenchesForHire, RisqueSno



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Medication, Normalization of Abusive Relationship, Old work, Secrets Revealed, Tabloids, everybody has lunchroom privileges, evil plots written in crayon, very brief reference to sexual situations, whodunit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-06
Updated: 2006-11-06
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gladrial/pseuds/Gladrial, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenchwenchesForHire/pseuds/HenchwenchesForHire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisqueSno/pseuds/RisqueSno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can the inmates at Arkham do when their deepest secrets get revealed to the public?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We wrote this eons ago and may revisit one day. For now, here it is in its originality.

"Uh…boss…you really should take a look at this," a henchman suggested nervously.

"I don't pay you to talk," Penguin said irritably as he sat down to enjoy his breakfast.

"Yeah, I know…it's just…," he continued to stammer.

"You are still jabbering," Penguin warned with growing annoyance.

The henchman shuffled his feet, wondering what would be worse: continuing his attempt or doing nothing. But his agitated state was a distraction to Cobblepot with or without him vocalizing it.

"What is so terribly important?" the mob boss finally sighed.

The relieved goon placed a tabloid magazine on the table next to Penguin's breakfast tray.

"This is what you wanted me to see? I don't read trash," he shoved the magazine away from him in disgust and it fell to the floor.

"But boss, you're in it!" the goon tried to explained.

Penguin shrugged. "I often am. The important thing is that they can't prove anything."

"No boss, this is different! Look!" he exclaimed as he picked the magazine up and handed it to his boss once again.

Cobblepot rolled his eyes but grabbed the magazine nonetheless. He took a sip of coffee as he glanced over the article the henchman had indicated. At first his eyes glided across the words nonchalantly, but a moment later the goon found himself drenched in coffee that had been sprayed from his boss' mouth.

Penguin was on his feet instantly. "WHAT?" he squawked in horrified disbelief.

* * *

 

It was a rather ordinary day in the Arkham Asylum cafeteria where several notable inmates were awaiting (or dreading) their meal.

The Joker pushed his tray along and stopped in front of a selection of ribs. He put one on his plate while Harley kept a suspicious eye on him from behind. He reached for another and Harley quickly smacked his hand. Joker turned on her instantly but his companion began vocalizing her concern before he could do anything.

"One is plenty," she stated sternly.

"One is obviously not plenty. If it were I wouldn't want another," Joker said as though he had expected this conversation and rehearsed his lines the night before.

"You know what the doctor said. We have to watch your cholesterol," Harley reminded with equaled precision.

Riddler was standing behind Harley and growing tired of waiting. "Having health problems, are we?" he asked Joker.

"Shut your hole, Eddie. There's a lovely plastic knife just waiting to lodge itself in there," Joker retaliated with an edge of annoyance.

"I must say, you do look a bit tired," Eddie continued happily.

"It's not easy being pretty for you everyday," Joker replied smoothly as he tried to ignore Harley's lecture about the evils of margarine.

"I'm flattered," Eddie commented sarcastically.

Harley turned to Riddler and explained. "Poor Puddin' is just adjustin' to the new heart meds."

Joker quickly snuck another set of ribs while Harley was distracted, commenting to himself, "It's like there's this irritating noise coming from somewhere and I just can't make it stop."

"Problems with the ol' ticker, eh?" Eddie asked, pressing for details.

"Nope. None. Nadda. Zip," Joker made perfectly clear. "What's that word they keep using, Harl?"

"Precautionary."

"Yeah, that."

As they moved to sit down, Joker indicated that he'd like Eddie to pick him up some butter pats. Eddie shook his head, but grabbed a few thinking, "What's the harm? If I'm lucky they'll send him to an early grave."

Harley set her tray down next to Joker's along with a magazine she'd been carrying. Inmates were allowed subscriptions to certain reading material, but the staples had been removed before delivering it into Harley's hands.

She then began meticulously setting out over a dozen tiny pills of all shapes, sizes, and colors in little rows. Ivy watched as Joker tried to ignore what was going on next to him.

"They've already got you on fifteen meds. What's one more for the interactive fun?" Ivy quipped dryly.

"Pammy, if I wanted your opinion I would have asked this shitty salad Harley's trying to feed me. Wait, lemme say this so that you can understand." Joker leaned closer to the salad on his tray and started talking slowly. "Pammy? Are you there? Can you hear me? You really need to stop having sex with your orchids; it's really disgusting. …Pammy?"

Ivy gave Harley a look she had many, many times before. It said, "Really? Him?" Harley returned the look with a smile and a shrug.

"Alright Puddin', all of these need to go down the hatch," she said as bubbly as she could, hoping her tone would make the ordeal go more smoothly.

He paused, looked down at the pills and back up at Harley, who was smiling broadly though it seemed a little forced. Joker seemed to be considering his options and after carefully weighing them, started popping pills into his mouth. The tension between the two was so strong you could taste it and everyone sitting at the table watched on with interest.

When all the medicine was taken, Harley took a deep breath and said, "Open your mouth."

Joker gawked at her with a look that said, "You must be joking. Just who do you think you are?"

"Open. Your. Mouth," she said more sternly.

Joker followed the instructions with obvious disgust. "There! Happy!" he snapped.

Harley took another breath. "Lift your tongue."

Joker angrily threw the utensil he was holding at the table and turned on her violently. She held her ground and he knew what she was saying without her even having to say it: "Don't push me. Not on this."

Joker did as he was asked with barely contained fury as Harley calmly said, "Thank you" and turned to her meal. She exhaled heavily as though she had been holding her breath for a period of time.

Harley began eating while lazily leafing through the pages of her magazine and everyone at the table began to relax a little. At this time, the events that had just unfolded in front of them occurred to the Riddler as more than a little odd.

"Wait just a minute," he began. "How the hell are you administering medication?"

Everyone looked to Harley for an explanation.

Harley didn't look up from her magazine, commenting coolly, "That's really not your business."

"The hell it isn't! That's plain illegal! Why isn't anyone doing anything about it?" Eddie exclaimed and looked around at the guards.

"That's what I said," a disgruntled Joker mumbled.

Harley, knowing the subject wouldn't drop, finally looked up. "Think of it this way: I am a doctor after all."

"No you're not! Your license was revoked!" He turned to Crane to make sure he was correct on the matter and Scarecrow nodded in confirmation.

"It's no big deal. Puddin' was givin' everyone trouble about his meds. I'm just making sure he takes 'em, that's all. It's not like I'm prescribin' anything," Harley replied, acting as though the situation was entirely normal.

"Am I the only one that is freaking out about this? It's not legal! I'll…I'll write my congressman! That's what I'll do," he yelled loud enough for the handful of doctors in the room to hear.

"You do that, Eddie. I'm sure the congressman will be very interested in the ravings of a lunatic," the pig-tailed blonde said calmly as she returned to her magazine. Riddler looked to the others sitting around him and they all shrugged in a "what can you do" manner.

At that moment, Harley exclaimed "Oh my God!" and began laughing hysterically at an article in the magazine.

Ivy leaned over, trying to see what Harley was laughing at, asking curiously, "What is it?"

"It's Cobblepot!" Harley began, which grabbed everyone's attention and they all tried to catch a glimpse of the tabloid. "It says here that one of his chicks had an abortion," she elaborated.

"When you say _chicks_ , you do mean _girls_ , right?" giggled Joker, who seemed to be willing to forget the recent ordeal with such a good joke set up. "You never can tell with him."

Ivy threw in her two cents, stating firmly, "I, for one, am relieved. If there's one thing that man shouldn't be doing, it's breeding."

The only person that didn't seem interested was Riddler, who said, "I thought everyone knew about that."

"You mean it's true?!" Harley gasped. "I thought this rag was just full of crap!"

"Hey, I don't know much. I just…overheard a thing or two last time I was at the Lounge," Eddie continued. "It's weird…I was just talking about it with Dr. Bartholomew the other day."

"Why on earth would that come up in your session, Eddie?" Ivy asked.

Riddler shrugged. "I don't remember. One subject led to another. It was something about something."

"This does not bode well for Penguin's business," Crane said. "Think about it: The only people who don't run in our circle that can afford a night at the Iceberg Lounge are the right wing freaks. They'll boycott. The loss of profits…I wonder how frightened he is…"

Joker quietly reached across the table and grabbed some butter off of Riddler's tray, hoping the present conversation would provide a decent distraction. Unfortunately, he was caught in the middle of buttering his roll.

"Where did you get that?!" Harley demanded, bewildered at how it got past her tray inspection.

"Listen, I'm tired. Just hit yourself so we can move on," Joker said in exasperation.

Everyone at the table got to hear yet another rendition of the "I do and I do for you, and this is the thanks I get" speech from Harley for the duration of the lunch period.


	2. Chapter 2

That night Harley fought for sleep to overtake her, but distracting thoughts filled her head and would not allow it. Worry about how long she could keep this up and the events from the previous day kept playing in her mind over and over. She was still very unsure of herself and whether she had made the right decision.

Yesterday, instead of being taken back to her cell after the session with Dr. Leland, as was the usual routine, she had been escorted to Dr. Arkham's office. When she and the two armed guards reached the door, she began to become a bit nervous. Arkham didn't handle any of the patients' care personally: His job was to oversee the facility. It occurred to her that she had not seen the inside of the room since she was a doctor herself, and standing in front of the door gave her the feeling of being sent to the principal's office.

It didn't occur to her how ironic it was that, physically speaking, she could over-power him easily. All that mattered was that in these walls, the man had complete control over your very existence.

Once inside, the guards immediately shut the door behind Harley. She suddenly felt trapped and blurted out, "I didn't do anything!"

Arkham gestured for her to calm down. "I know that. You've been a model patient lately. Please, have a seat."

Harley, still unaware of what she was summoned for, sat down cautiously in an overstuffed chair on the opposite side of the doctor's desk. Now that he had her here, Jeremiah seemed unwilling to begin talking and gazed out the window.

After a long pause, Harley cleared her throat. "…Uh…Should I be saying something?"

The doctor turned from the window and faced Harley. "Not at all, I've called you here because…well, because I'd like your help."

"What could I possibly help you with?" Harley asked, now curious.

"Unbeknownst to you, you have already provided a great deal of assistance. It would be no surprise to you that Joker has been our most difficult patient. There are so many little things that no one thinks about though. It's almost impossible to properly diagnose and medicate him because he's so ingenuine but," he said slowly, "you are one of the most genuine people in this facility as soon as one gets around your delusions." He tried to register if she was gathering his meaning.

"…You…You've been using my discussions with Leland to diagnose and treat him!" Harley exclaimed in shock.

"I didn't say that," Arkham responded aloofly.

"But you are! That's a major breach in protocol!" she said, aghast.

Arkham ignored the comment and continued, "I will say that I have never felt closer to finding the proper treatment method for him. I only have one problem: He has been refusing his medication. It's nothing new with him. We've often found that even when he seems to have accepted them, the pills end up stuffed in his bedding. To be honest, I never really thought it was worth troubling over because so much of it was just a shot in the dark."

"Until now," Harley said coldly.

"Until now," he admitted.

"What makes you think that I'd want to help you?" she asked.

"Just think about it, Harleen. I'm not expecting miracles, but this could be a major breakthrough. We could actually begin to make a positive turn in his life. As a doctor, and formerly _his_ doctor, surely you'd want to see that."

"For your information, I love him just the way he is. I _don't want_ to see him changed."

"I don't think you know what you want. Surely you'd appreciate him treating you better if nothing else. However, if that isn't enough to convince you, take a look at this." Arkham handed her a portion of the Joker's file. It was his most recent physical. "As you can see, his blood pressure is rather high. One of the medications he has been prescribed and _refuses_ to take is intended to help lower it. …He's headed for a heart attack, Harley."

Harley put a hand over her heart. "It has to be stress related," she choked. "He…He just gets himself so worked up."

"Not so surprising given his lifestyle," Jeremiah replied as he handed her a box of tissue. After giving her some time to compose herself he continued, "So…Do we have an understanding?"

Harley looked at him and smiled coolly. "You did everything exactly right: You asked me for help to give me the feeling of control; you called me doctor in order to make me feel like an equal; you had just the right leverage to ensure compliance but still gave the impression of me having a choice in the matter. It was textbook perfect."

"You really should have stuck with us, Harleen. You'd have been great," he smiled back. "Despite all that, you do have a choice. I can hardly force you to comply. If I could, I'd just force him to act exactly as I wanted."

"Yes, but I have leverage too. You need me," she made clear. "And don't think I'm not on to you. This is no little favor. This asylum has become a joke and you along with it. But if you could get through to the Joker, just him, even a little, everyone's opinion would turn around instantly and you know it."

The doctor remained calm though a glimmer of anger could be caught in his eye. "I have very little that I can offer in return. What is it you want?"

"I want a bigger role than what you're suggesting. I should have some say in the matter seeing as I'm the one that knows him best. As you said, he won't be honest with you."

"And he will with you?" Arkham asked.

"…It doesn't matter if he is or not. I know how to read him. I'll agree to help you out in return that my suggestions have merit and I'm kept abreast of the situation. I want to be absolutely certain we are doing what is in his best interest."

"I must admit, what you are asking makes me uncomfortable, but I suppose it's not out of the realm of reason. I agree to your terms."

"I have to say, you've been making a lot of rationalizations lately, not to mention taking risks. I can name at least three different things we've discussed here that would get you barred immediately if known to the public. For example, you can't possibly think this deal is good for my development. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get kicked out of here," Harley pried.

Jeremiah chuckled at this but it was empty. "The truth is, if the powers that be could have their wish, I would have been out of here long ago. They only have one problem: No one wants to take my place. As for you, it is my hope that working for the benefit of a patient will be as healing for you as it is for him. It might remind you why we're in this business."

They stood and shook hands, formalizing the bargain. Before letting go Harley threatened, "Remember, I can back out of this anytime I wish."

Dr. Arkham, not easily threatened, replied, "As can I, Ms. Quinn."

As Harley headed to the door, she did not turn to face him, but added, "Everything here…all of us…it's not your fault."

The doctor didn't reply to the comment and the guards opened the door to escort Harley to her cell.

"Oh," Harley realized as she was heading out the door and peeked back into the office. "I am going to have to talk with him alone. Just so he knows where we stand."

Arkham peered at her from over his glasses and she knew what he was thinking.

"No funny stuff, Doc. You can watch on if you like, but how else am I supposed to begin without letting him know our intentions?" she stated rationally.

"Alright, I'll arrange it. I'm not sure if I want to know…but just how do you plan to make him comply with our demands?" Arkham asked.

"Please, Doc. What have we been talking about here: leverage. No one else may have any on Mistah J, but me? I have gobs," she said with a wink.

Later that night, Harley had threatened Joker with something he would've never expected in a million years. It was far too cruel. Not that Harley was above cruelty, but she certainly never treated him that way.

Joker never considered his plans back-firing in such a manner. He had created something that adored…no, _worshipped_ him in spite of everything he was or did. It didn't occur to him that there would come a time he wouldn't want that. Because of her blind devotion, his well-being took precedence over everything, even if he didn't want it.

His hands were tied and he hated the feeling of being trapped. Joker had no choice but to go along with her demands for the time being. But, like any cornered animal, his mind quickly began working on escape.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks had gone by and Joker had just about exhausted every tactic he could think of to sneak food that was edible: Harley was on to his every move and watched him like a hawk. Furthermore, he had yet to develop a way to bypass his medication and was forced to take actually it regularly.

Harley was half listening to the conversation around her as she flipped through a new issue of her bi-weekly gossip magazine, when her mouth went agape at an article.

Ivy quickly asked, "What is it now? More on Cobblepot? Honestly Harley, I don't know what possesses you to read that garbage."

"No, not Cobblepot. It's Jervis!" she revealed as the Mad Hatter looked up from the end of the table.

"Me?" he asked. "Why that's preposterous. I don't have anything of interest to be revealed that the public doesn't know about already."

"Well, it says here you're a pedophile," Harley smiled.

"Oh, not this again!" Jervis threw up his hands. "It's absolutely ridiculous and all lies. They'll say anything to keep sales up."

"Yeah, but this article actually features a 'victim' of yours. Do you know anyone by the name of Amy Scott?" Harley pried.

"SHE SAID IT WAS HER EIGHTEENTH UNBIRTHDAY!" Jervis blurted out instantly and the table roared with laughter.

"That's sick!" Ivy said in disgust. "How dare you take advantage of a young girl like that? And here I thought you were one of the only semi-decent men in here."

"It wasn't my fault!" Jervis tried to explain. "She said…"

"Yeah," Harley agreed. "I used to think you were kinda sweet for a guy who used a hat to make up for his limited height…Sweet in a creepy sorta way."

"It is rather distasteful," Crane threw in.

"If you would only let me explain…," Jervis made another attempt.

"Now, now ladies and gents," Joker commented wryly. "When you are a man of Tetch's shortcomings, you must take what you can get." The Mad Hatter looked ready to rip his hair out.

"As engaging as this conversation is," Ivy interrupted in her usual condescending tone, "Isn't this cause for some alarm?"

Joker grinned. "What's one more person scarred for life in the grand scheme of things?"

"I am _not_ referring to the molested girl," she said with rising annoyance.

"I DIDN'T…!" Jervis began to protest one last time, but was quickly cut off as Ivy continued.

"This is the second magazine in a row that has featured an article about someone in our circle that happens to be accurate. Just how are they getting their information?"

This revelation led to mild concern throughout the group. Unfortunately, lunch hour ended before any sort of true speculation could begin.


	4. Chapter 4

Another two weeks had passed and everyone was becoming accustomed to Joker and Harley's new routine. No one said anything about it anymore, although Riddler would often give pleading looks for an explanation. He never liked being kept in the dark.

After Harley surveyed Joker's tray as usual, they headed for the table. Ivy dashed up to Harley and whispered, "What's up with him? He seems a bit antsy."

Before Harley could explain, Joker suddenly yelled across the room, "HEY! HEY YOU! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"

Harley sighed wearily. "Puddin', just sit down and try to relax."

"But he won't stop!"

"He's a guard, Puddin'. It's his _job_ to look at you."

Joker cautiously sat down but did not take his eyes off of the guard as Harley began setting out his pills once again.

"I'm tellin' ya, that guy is up to something," Joker stated with absolute conviction.

"That's what you said about the janitor earlier today," Harley said in exasperation.

"She was snooping around my session!" Joker's voice rose.

"She was probably going to _clean_ the room after you left. That's what janitors do! I think your medication may be making you paranoid."

"I am NOT paranoid!" Joker said defiantly.

"Fine. Whatever you say. Take your medicine." Harley seemed to think the argument was not worth continuing.

Joker looked at the pills cautiously. "…Have you had those with you all day?"

"See?! See, you are paranoid!" Harley said triumphantly.

"It's not paranoia to think someone may be out to get me. Lots of people have made attempts on my life. I just want to know if there is a chance that someone may have tampered with those pills…and why that guy won't stop LOOKING AT ME!"

Harley slammed her head against the table. "Puddin, I love you, but you're really starting to get on my nerves."

"Wait, wait. Let me get this straight. _I'm_ …annoying _you_?" he said slowly.

"Yes!" she breathed, relieved he was finally getting it.

"Oh dear God! Do something!" he freaked out while everyone at the table chuckled. Harley quickly whipped out a notepad and crayon, causing Eddie to lean towards her.

"What're you doing?" Riddler asked out of curiosity.

"They wouldn't let me have a pen," Harley explained.

"Yes, but _what_ are you doing?" he said as he tried to get a glimpse of what she was writing.

"Just suggesting a certain medication Puddin' should be taken off of," she replied nonchalantly. Riddler's mouth dropped open.

"That's not good enough!" Joker demanded. "It'll take too long to get out of my system."

"Alright, alright. I'll suggest another sedative to calm you down."

Riddler started pointing at her frantically. "You said you weren't prescribing anything!"

"I'm not. I'm making _suggestions_."

"That they're going to listen to!" he continued undaunted.

"Probably," she admitted. "FRANKIE!"

A guard lumbered up to her and she handed him the note, directing him to take it to Dr. Arkham. Frankie read over the note and agreed when he saw nothing threatening written there.

"Y'know what, I think I want Crane to be my doctor. Why not?" Riddler commented sarcastically as Scarecrow smiled wickedly from across the table. "I was just trying to make a point," he said to Crane. "You stay the hell away from me."

The subject was quickly dropped when Harley dramatically revealed the latest edition of her magazine. "We're movin' up in the world guys," she said with a smile. "We got our own column!"

"You mean there's going to be something about one of us every issue?" Ivy asked. "Whoever's behind this is obviously not letting up."

"They call it 'Tales from the Madhouse'. Neat, huh!" Harley answered as she quickly turned the pages to find the article.

Everyone waited anxiously but instead of sharing the story, Harley tossed the magazine to the side. She crossed her arms angrily and slumped in her seat.

"Well, who was it about?" Riddler asked.

"If you must know, it's about you," she said huffily. Joker and Riddler both dove for the magazine as Harley continued with a pout. "'S not fair. I'm the one that buys the stupid thing."

A game of tug-of-war had broken out over the magazine as Ivy conversed with Harley. "Am I right in understanding that you _want_ to be in the magazine?"

"Sure I would! I've been buyin' them since my college days for somethin' meaningless to read between studying."

Joker managed to scoff at Harley's comment on studying while still trying to get the upper hand on Riddler. "What are you so worried about? What do you think is going to be in here?" he asked Eddie exasperatedly.

"I honestly have no idea, but whatever it is, it's my business," Riddler answered matter-of-factly.

Joker had eventually managed to wrestle the magazine away from his opponent, beaming from ear to ear. "It's already become everybody's business and we'll all find out about it eventually anyway. You might as well get it over with now," he said as he flipped through the pages, and Riddler shrugged in concession.

Everyone waited patiently as Joker read a few lines to himself, but he didn't get very far into the article before he had fallen off his chair with laughter. Riddler went to grab the magazine again and Joker was far too busy clutching his sides to put up a fight.

"No, no, no, no, no! …This…This…They…," Eddie sputtered. "They chose their words very carefully. They make it sound like I've got some kind of STD, but it was just a rash." He leaned over the table to where the Joker was still rolling on the floor. "JUST A RASH!"

"Suuuuure," Joker managed to get out between trying to catch his breath.

"That's it!" he cried angrily as he dumped all the food off his tray, stepped onto the table,and down off the opposite side with the tray in hand. Several guards were already moving Eddie's way as he started to swing the tray madly at the Joker's head. His assault lasted all of two seconds though as the guards forced him out of the room, screaming his parting words, "You want to know who's responsible for all this?! It's him! It's always him!"

After the doors had slammed shut behind Riddler, Harley looked down at Joker still giggling on the floor. "You okay, Puddin'?"

"Are you kidding? That was great! Did you see how pissed off he got?"

"Everyone saw, Puddin'. Good for you," she replied genuinely.

Joker returned to his seat and found Ivy looking at him suspiciously. "I think Eddie's on to something," she commented coolly. "It is you, isn't it?"

"It does sound like something I'd do," he said with a smile.

Ivy's suspicious gaze turned to Harley. "And it just so happens to be in a magazine you've admitted to reading for years."

"Red, I swear, I had nothing to do with any of this. …Hey! Maybe I could submit something about myself to the magazine!" she excitedly changed subjects and quickly slumped again. "But that just doesn't feel the same."

Ivy was inclined to believe Harley and returned her gaze to the Joker. "Let me guess, you saw a bunch of her magazines lying around and thought of a new way to torment us all?"

At that moment, the guards called for the end of lunch and started lining inmates up near the doors.

"I'd love to continue this conversation Pammy, but unfortunately, it looks like our time is up," Joker said as sweetly as he could while standing to leave.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Why hasn't there been a change?!" Joker demanded the pills laid out before him. "And don't give me that 'these things take time' excuse again."

"Puddin', you can't just abruptly alter medication," Harley replied rationally. "It can really mess you up."

"Abruptly? There has been absolutely zero change in any of the doses! It's been weeks!"

Harley sighed. "I know. They obviously aren't taking my advice seriously," she admitted disappointedly. "But don't you worry, Puddin'. I've got a meeting with Dr. Arkham today."

"…You don't say."

"I do," she said happily. It was rare that she saw him actually impressed with her.

"Hmph," he grunted in a way that indicated he was appeased for the time being.

"Harely, however did you manage a meeting with Arkham?" Ivy asked.

"Oh, y'know…leverage," Harley smiled slyly. What she failed to mention was that she had a note delivered to the doctor the day before. It simply read, "I can still back out," forcing his hand.

"But enough about that," Harley quickly changed the subject. "Look what I got!" She exclaimed, and excitedly pulled out another magazine.

This was met with a chorus of groans from all except Joker, who cheerfully said, "I wonder who the lucky winner is today."

"Like you don't already know!" Riddler accused.

"Actually, I'm not convinced it's him after all," Ivy admitted. "He's not gloating enough and I'm having a difficult time figuring out how he'd get all this information in the first place."

Joker looked wounded. "Pammy, don't tell me you're beginning to doubt my abilities."

"Oh, believe me, you're hardly off my list of suspects," Ivy said, "but I think it's much more likely we're looking for a doctor."

"That does make sense," Riddler thought out loud. "My medical condition would have been recorded… Tetch, did you ever mention the underage girl in one of your sessions?"

Though annoyed at having the subject brought up yet again, Hatter answered,"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Dealing with my issues of solidarity."

"And I mentioned the abortion incident in session myself!" Riddler said excitedly as he began to piece it together. "Why didn't I think of this earlier?"

"Because you were pissed off," Ivy offered.

Riddler suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh, wait. Tetch and I have different doctors."

"That wouldn't matter," Harley said. "Copies of all the medical files are kept in one room. All anyone would have to do is get inside it and they'd have everything. It's got a coded lock on the door though."

"Who's allowed in?" Riddler asked.

"Only the medical staff," she answered.

"Well, now all we have to do is figure out which doctor it is," Riddler continued. "Anyone know a doctor that's purchased something rather pricey recently, like a new Porsche or a house?"

"Dr. Hensen purchased a new yacht not too long ago. He mentioned it when explaining to me about being temporarily assigned another doctor since he's going on vacation," Hatter revealed.

"Are you all going to yap through the entire lunch period!" Joker said, obviously irritated at the attention being shifted from him. "Or is someone going to open that magazine?"

Harley, having momentarily forgotten about the article, tore through the pages. She quickly looked crushed upon realizing she was, once again, not featured.

"Oh, get over yourself," Ivy said as she ripped the magazine away from her friend. After viewing it for a moment, she put it down and slowly surveyed Professor Crane. Her reply to his curious look was simply, "…You're not gay." It was really more of a question than a statement.

"I most certainly am not!" he confirmed ardently as Ivy handed him the magazine.

"That can only be a good thing," Ivy said, relieved. "It means they have run out of fact based material."

"Well…not exactly," Scarecrow replied apprehensively, and Riddler attempted to put more distance between himself and Crane. "Cut that out!" he snapped. "I'm not gay."

"And even if he were, you'd be the least of us to worry, Eddie," Joker giggled. "No one wants anything you're carrying."

Before another fight broke out, Crane went on to explain. "It's not as though the article definitively says I'm gay. It merely implies it."

"How does one imply they saw you at a gay club?" Ivy responded. "You were either there or you weren't."

"You were _where_?" Harley gasped, barely able to contain her snickering.

"Let me explain! I was not there voluntarily. I was running from the Batman and about a half a dozen police vehicles, so I simply entered the first establishment I could without being seen. I wasn't paying attention to where I was."

"Sure, let him explain," Tetch muttered into his tea.

"Bet you saw more than you bargained for there, huh?" Joker jabbed.

Crane shuttered. "You have no idea."

"Don't tell me the master of fear is homophobic!" Joker chortled.

"…That's brilliant," Crane said in awe as he snatched up Harley's notepad and crayon.

"HEY!" Harley protested.

A pained, "Oh Lord," was Ivy's response to Scarecrow scribbling madly.

"Fear of homosexuality has been steadily growing in our society and it's completely irrational. Often those suffering from it react violently when confronted with their fear," he said as he continued writing.

Joker's eyes suddenly lit up with realization. "I want in!"

Crane looked up from his notes. "What?"

"I gave you the idea. I. Want. In."

"Why?"

"You must be joking. It'll be absolutely hilarious!"

"I assure you whatever I do to research this will strictly be in the interest of science." The former professor assured and went back to writing. "…But yeah, it'll be pretty funny," he said under his breath.

"I'm in or I'll focus my attention on making your life miserable," Joker threatened.

"Fine! But this is my deal. I call the shots."

"YES! I love a super-villain team-up!" the clown said excitedly. "And you!" he directed to the guard he had been suspicious of lately, "You're still on my list!"

Crane shook his head but he wore a wry smile. The guard, on the other hand, looked as though he were thinking, "Why me?"

Later that evening, Harley was escorted once again to Jeremiah Arkham's office. Her demeanor was much different from the anxious inmate in their previous encounter. This time she entered his presence full of confidence and determination.

"I knew you'd try to write me off," she said coldly as she took her seat.

"I assume you are referring to your advisement on Joker's medication," the doctor said frankly. "I never implied you'd have that kind of control. Regardless, it's far too soon to decide his current prescriptions aren't being affective."

"Oh, they're affecting him alright. He's becoming paranoid."

"He's made a couple of threats to random staff members and inmates. That's hardly anything new."

"Trust me, I can tell the difference," Harley stated. "He's hiding it very well in an attempt to not appear weak, but he's, for lack of a better word, nervous."

"Frightened?"

"…I wouldn't go that far."

"This might actually be a good sign. Perhaps his perception of possible dangers around him is a step toward a better perception of reality. After all, he's always had a 'devil may care' attitude, even including personal endangerment, as though he were untouchable. Now he's beginning to see the reality of the situation."

Harley shook her head. "But his perceived dangers aren't real!"

"So he's misplaced them. Adaptation is bound to be difficult after all this time being trapped inside his mind."

"I don't think you're thinking this through. His nerves are shot despite how he may seem outwardly. This is making him feel more and more vulnerable." She leaned forward seriously. "He's creating outlets and sooner or later, probably sooner, he will retaliate. Are you willing to have that blood on your hands?"

Arkham sat in silent thought and after some time Harley continued. "The changes I suggested aren't drastic. If you think you're on the right track, and you very well may be, it's not really going to alter much."

"Very well Miss Quinn. We'll try it your way."


	6. Chapter 6

The following day, a familiar face had reentered the asylum, or more appropriately, two familiar faces.

"Hey! It's Harvey!" Riddler said as Two-Face sat down with his tray.

"When did you get in and how?" Ivy asked.

"Last night. The Bat," he said shortly. After a brief pause he added, "I think he's really pleased with himself, having most of us in here. He radiated cockiness…ass."

"What happened?" Riddler pressed for details.

"That's the thing that really pisses me off. Nothing happened! He got me in my sleep! How the hell can you brag about that? Still don't know how he found me…bastard. So what have I missed?"

Ivy fixed a smile on her face and ticked off her fingers as she shared. "Well, Penguin ordered an abortion; Hatter's a pedophile; Eddie's got the clap; and Crane's gay."

This was quickly followed by, "She said she was eighteen!"; "It was just a rash!"; and "I'm not gay!"

"Unfortunately, Cobblepot is not here to defend himself," Ivy said with her smile still in place.

"What the hell?" Harvey replied in shock. "…Just…forget I asked. Where're the clowns?"

"That's a good question," Ivy agreed.

They didn't have to wait long for an answer. Almost instantly, a frazzled Harley Quinn entered the room along with the Joker, being physically supported by two guards.

"Just sit him right there," Harley instructed the guards. "Oh, hi Harvey. Would you guys watch him while I get his food? Thanks. And for God's sake, don't let him wander around." With these vague instructions, she took her leave of the group.

"Hey, isss Harvey!" Joker exclaimed in a slow drawl. "Ya know what? We never go out. We should go out sometime." He slouched toward the table and rested his head on one fist while wearing a stupid grin.

"…Yeah…sure…whatever," Two-Face replied dumbstruck.

"Electroshock," Hatter concluded. "They finally fried his brain."

Apparently, it was too much effort on his arm to provide support any longer, and Joker's head slowly made its way toward the table.

"It's not electroshock," Riddler stated. "Harley had that meeting with Arkham yesterday, remember? She must have won out. This would be the extra sedative."

Harvey nodded in agreement. "He looks pretty doped up to me." At that, Joker's head finally reached the table and he had fallen fast asleep.

"Is he dead?" Ivy asked hopefully.

"We probably should make sure he's okay," Riddler suggested hesitantly.

"Great idea. You do it," Ivy said.

"Why me?" he protested

"Because it was your idea," Ivy stated matter-of-factly.

"What if he's just messing with us? That'd be just like him," Riddler retaliated.

"Then I'd make it quick," she replied helpfully.

Riddler quickly jabbed at Joker's shoulder with his spoon and everyone quickly leaned away from the clown, not knowing what to expect. With no reaction, Riddler checked his pulse and reported, "It's really slow, but he's alive…unfortunately."

"Wait a minute," Harvey shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. "What was that you said about Harley and Arkham?"

"Oh," Ivy said. "I forgot to mention, Harley is Joker's doctor again."

"Well, not really," Harley admitted as she approached with two trays in tow.

"It looks like you're doing another bang up job," Harvey offered sarcastically.

Harley ignored the comment as she saw Joker's condition. "Not again!" She cried and began attempting to shake him awake. "You've slept for the past twenty hours, Puddin'! You have to eat!"

"Harl, you really should consider keeping him this way," Ivy suggested smoothly. "He's much easier to live with."

Harley, still trying to wake him, laughed. "I thought the same thing for about two seconds. He keeps telling me I'm pretty. If he weren't so annoying, I'd be very tempted." Joker finally raised his head and looked around groggily. "Good! Puddin', look; I brought you some food."

"Did you say he's annoying now?" Ivy asked bewildered. "You do see what we have to put up with most of the time?"

"Yes, I'll admit he's easier to deal with, but believe me, he'll start to grate on your nerves soon. He thinks everything's great. I'm great. His doctor's great. Hell, you'd be great to him right now," Harley explained. "He was just tellin' me how great freakin' doors were a moment ago."

"Doors are great!" Joker said instantly. "They open _and_ close! …Except mine…It's broken..."

Harley rolled her eyes. "That's wonderful, Puddin'. Please, just eat."

"Hey Joker," Riddler called with a smile. "What about Batman? Is Batman great?"

Joker froze and appeared rather confused. He eventually relaxed, leaned toward Harley and whispered, "Eddie's funny."

"I was hoping that'd make his brain explode," Riddler said disappointedly.

"Where the hell is my notepad?" Harley complained. Remembering what had happened the day before, she glared at Crane, who shrugged innocently. She sighed and yelled "FRANKIE!"

The guard approached her and Joker called out before Harley could speak. "Hey! Issss Frankie! We never go out. We should go out sometime."

"…The hell?" Frankie said confused.

Harley quickly instructed, "Listen, I need you to give Dr. Arkham an important message. Tell him that he needs to put an immediate stop on Joker's extra sedative. Can you remember that? His extra sedative."

Frankie looked at her crossly. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. Every one of you act as though the security here is full of morons. It's very stereotypical."

"So how'd a bright fellow like yourself get stuck here?" Riddler said sarcastically.

"If you must know, I have my masters in psychology and am working toward my doctorate. I can go to school and work here nights. It's the best paying part time job I could find and the benefits are good, not to mention that the environment is quite insightful given my chosen field."

"Are you taking Human Behavior next semester?" Crane asked, now curious.

"Yes sir. That used to be one of your courses, if I'm correct."

The wiry man gave a smug grin. "My favorite actually. I have a lot of respect for my replacement, Dr Benson, though. You'll do alright by him."

"Actually sir, Benson took a position at Metropolis University this year. My instructor is Dr. Marlon."

"Ugh! Not Marlon!" Harley moaned.

"They gave that…that…hack _my_ class!" Crane gasped.

"I think I slept through every lesson he ever taught," Harley added, causing Harvey to almost choke on his mashed potatoes with laughter with the possible implications of the word 'slept'.

"That's because psychiatry begins and ends with Freud to that man!" Crane said indignantly.

Frankie was rather pleased with himself as he'd been silently hoping an opportunity like this would open up for him. He was surrounded by resources he had yet to be able to tap in to and now he found himself so easily in the middle of a conversation with some of Arkham's most notable inmates. It was an opportunity he couldn't afford to lose, so he decided a little compliment couldn't hurt to steer the conversation in the direction he wanted.

"Dr. Crane, I've read just about all your material Gotham U has to offer. It's really rather fascinating," Frankie said and it was true. After all, who wouldn't be curious? "I was wondering if you would mind sharing any insights from the other side of the establishment, as it were."

"The other side? You are quite mistaken. I am learning no less within these walls than I was without. I've hardly stopped in my endeavors," Crane responded frankly.

"It's true," Harley agreed. "You can never really stop because you've just been trained to think that way. You analyze everyone constantly. For example," she continued slyly, "I know someone sitting right at this table who doesn't belong here."

"Wha…Who?" Frankie asked, enthralled at this turn in the conversation.

Harley looked directly at Riddler, reporting calmly. "Eddie is no more insane than you are, Frankie. He puts on a good show though, doesn't he?"

Riddler looked at her sideways. "You never were very good at this, were you?"

"Nervous someone is on to you?" Harley asked.

"But…but he leaves clues for every illegal act he commits," Frankie said in confusion. "He designs his own capture. That isn't normal."

"Oh bullshit! How the hell would he survive? He'd barely get away with anything and be in here twice as often as he is now," Harley explained. "He only leaves clues when he's prepared for a confrontation with Batman because he enjoys the challenge of another intellect. Makes sense that he'd act the loon though. Scrawny guy like him wouldn't last a week in Blackgate. He found the one place he could be locked up where the brain is valued more than the brawn. Pretty clever, huh?"

Everyone looked to Eddie and he, not knowing what else to do, simply smiled back and returned to his food. The awkward moment was broken by Joker's sudden fascination with his gelatin.

"Guys! Jell-O is so great. It jiggles!" He started poking his dessert with a spoon.

Frankie cringed when he heard a familiar voice yelling for him. "Frankie! Get the hell over here!" His superior, Cash, looked about as pissed as he'd ever seen him.

"I gotta go," Frankie said quickly.

"Don't forget my message!" Harley called after him.

Frankie then received a stern lecture about becoming too close to the patients of the asylum and was ordered to do nothing beyond what his job called for.


	7. Chapter 7

Joker recuperated soon after his medication was adjusted, but a few inmates tried to give him a hard time about his behavior on the sedative. They quickly let up though as it did not get much of a reaction. Joker's attitude on the matter seemed to say, "Really? That's the best you've got?" Besides, everyone had moved on to the matter at hand: the intrusion into their private lives.

The Joker entered the cafeteria with a triumphant look on his face as Harley sulked in behind him, and the reason behind this became clear as the clowns took their usual seats: Harley's magazine was rolled up firmly in Joker's hand.

"Harley! Why on earth did you give him that?" Ivy asked aghast.

"I didn't!" Harley protested. "He snatched it from me in the hall. Give it back," she whined. "It's mine."

"Harley, when are you going to learn that in a relationship nothing is 'mine'; it's ours," Joker scolded gently.

"You mean yours," Harley mumbled childishly.

"I'm glad we understand one another," he replied as he opened the magazine. "Oooh! This one is going to be good. I can feel it. I've been wondering why this whole ordeal has upset you so, Pammy. It's not like you to become so concerned with the happenings of your fellow inmates and you have yet to be involved…until today."

Ivy grew rigid as she tried to appear strong, but her face told a different story.

"Red? Are you keeping things from me?" Harley asked hurt.

"Harley, listen," Ivy was already working on damage control, while Joker busied himself reading the column. "If this article is going to read what I think it will, this is going to come as quite a shock, but I want you to know…"

She was interrupted by the Joker who had erupted in cold laughter. "This is the best one yet! Apparently, man wasn't meant to be vegetable. So, how long ya got Pammy? A couple of months? A year? Two? Ballpark it for me."

Ivy ignored him as her focus was strictly on Harley. As she began to interpret Joker's words, her face started to crack. "Give me that!" Harley snapped as she ripped away the magazine. She had to see it with her own eyes to make herself believe it.

"Oh my god…you're dying…" Harley whispered and then buried her head into Ivy's shoulder, weeping.

"Don't worry, Pumpkin' Pie. I'm going to be around for a good long while," Joker said as he, for the first time, joyfully popped pills into his mouth. "Doc's got me covered." To his irritation, Ivy continued to ignore him as she consoled her friend.

Scarecrow opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again as he did not seem to think his words fitting. Ivy signaled to him that it was alright. All others at the table were in almost respectful silence.

"C'mon Harley," she soothed. "Everything is going to be fine. I've known about it for a long time. I didn't tell you because…Well, there was nothing you could do and I knew it'd just upset you. It's one of the reasons I've attacked my calling to fight for plant rights so intensely. …I didn't know how much time I had left. I still don't. I could very well be around for a long time yet. I've already exceeded everyone's expectations. Just…try and calm down."

Harley lifted her head and her red face tried to choke back the coming tears.

"We still need to figure out who's behind all this," Ivy tried to redirect Harley's thoughts. "You want to help me do that, don't you?" Harley nodded fervently. "Good. I can already officially take you off my list of suspects," the redhead said as she directed her gaze to the Joker.

Joker was already annoyed as this whole scene did not play out nearly as funny as it should have. "Oh. And why's that?" he asked irritably.

"Because if you had this on me, you'd have saved it for much better use," Ivy replied with conviction.

"Good call," Riddler congratulated her.

"This isn't funny anymore," Joker declared as he withdrew himself from the conversation.

Which left the rest of the group to work on coming up with a list of doctors most likely to try to exploit their positions in this fashion. Harley was of greatest help here because she had at one time chatted with many of these people outside of a professional venue.

Coming up with a list of suspects was one thing, but discovering the true culprit from within locked doors was going to prove a difficult task for the inmates of Arkham Asylum.


	8. Chapter 8

"This is hopeless," Riddler proclaimed in irritation. "We've looked at it a dozen ways. There's no way of knowing which doctor is responsible. It's not as though we can stake out the hallway in front of the door."

"If we could find a way inside the records room unnoticed, we could just wait for them in there," Ivy rationalized.

"That's brilliant," Riddler commented sarcastically. "There're only three problems to your plan. First, obviously, is getting past the coded lock. Second would be determining whether the person or people that enter are involved or just there for work-related reasons. The third problem, and this is the fun one, is deciding which of us would be willing to scrap one of their escape plans to somehow accomplish the task."

Following this, there were several shouts of 'not me' around the table and Ivy sulked at the reality of the situation.

"Speaking of which, two weeks have past since the last magazine," Riddler realized. "Isn't it time for another one?"

Everyone looked to Harley who was taking great extremes not to make eye contact. She looked down at her tray and continued eating.

"Harley?" Ivy nudged. "You've been very quiet today."

"Yes, she has. Why are you trying to ruin it?" Joker asked annoyed and then eyed Harley suspiciously. He slowly broke into a grin. "It's about you, isn't it? You finally got what you wanted, but it's not as fun as you'd thought it'd be. Where're you hiding it, Harl?"

Harley clenched her fists and shook her head vigorously as though she could wish him away.

"That doesn't make sense," Ivy cut in. "The reason Harley hasn't been featured is because she wears her heart on her sleeve. The public already knows everything there is to know about her."

"Then why is she hiding it?" Riddler asked.

"I found it!" Joker suddenly announced. "She's sitting on it. Give it here, Harley-girl." Harley, still looking down at the table, shook her head again and grabbed the seat beneath her, holding herself in place. "Don't make daddy angry, cupcake" he warned as he tore away one of her hands from her seat and yanked the magazine out from under her.

"Puddin', you don't understand," a mortified Harley pleaded, blinking back tears.

"Tut tut," he soothed as he flipped through the pages.

"It's not about me!" she cried hoarsely and all eyes instantly fixed on Joker, who had frozen in place.

Riddler quickly reached across the table making a grab for the tabloid and yet another game of tug-of-war had broken out between the two. "You read mine! It's only fair," Eddie argued.

"What the hell makes you think I give a shit about what's fair?" Joker retorted. "Harley, give me a hand here."

"It doesn't matter," Harley sobbed melodramatically. "It's out there now. Everyone knows. The whole world knows."

Joker's nerves grew more frazzled at Harley's reaction. Still fighting with Riddler he asked, "Harley…Tell me it doesn't say what I think it says in there." Harley's sobs only grew louder as a response.

"I can't wait to hear this one," Ivy said with a smile.

"GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME NOW!" Joker demanded and with a sudden adrenaline rush managed to wrestle the magazine away. He instantly stood up and made a dash for the door unthinkingly, but didn't make it very far before several guards got in his way. In the struggle that broke out, the magazine was dropped and slid a short ways across the floor.

"There are laws against cruel and unusual punishment and I guarantee this falls under that category," Joker protested as he was pinned to the floor by several burly men.

Riddler casually rose from his seat and walked toward the spot where the magazine lay. A guard quickly turned his attention on him as well. "Go back to your seat," the guard instructed. "This doesn't concern you."

"I was just fetching Harley's periodical," Riddler explained. "Joker had taken it from her you see."

The guard picked up the magazine and saw that it had indeed been addressed to Harleen Quinzel. "Yeah, alright," the guard submitted and handed it over to him. "Now return to your seat."

Eddie turned and walked away until he felt he was at a distance that the guards were no longer paying him any noticed; then he sped toward his seat clutching his treasure.

He giggled as he hunted for the article. Across from him, Harley was still crying uncontrollably and Ivy was almost bouncing with excitement. "What's it say? What's it say?" she pleaded.

Riddler clutched his side in the laughter that erupted from him after glancing over the article. Eventually, he managed to speak. "No wonder you didn't want to take your medication," he directed toward the mass of bodies trying to subdue the clown. "Having a little trouble down south, are we?"

"He can't get it up?!" Two-Face asked in shock, a grin of deep amusement rapidly spreading across his face.

"No!" Ivy gasped and followed with a fit of laughter as Harley reached the crescendo of her wailing.

At that, Joker emerged with a jagged piece of glass he'd been hiding for just such an occasion. He slashed at those restraining him and one of the guard's throat started sputtering blood. The guard instinctively let go of the inmate and clutched at his neck in an attempt to halt the flow.

"He got Frankie! Someone get the med team in here NOW!" another guard boomed and Joker made his way free in the confusion. He clutched the now red stained glass in one hand and merely pointed at Riddler with the other.

"…Shit," Riddler breathed as he took off across the cafeteria with the Joker in close pursuit. "I didn't write the damn thing!" he tried to rationalize with the madman.

But Joker wasn't in the talking mood. He cut Riddler off by detouring over a table. The clown slammed his prey into the wall in front of them and stabbed the man rapidly one, two, three times in the back before the guards had made their way to them.

"Jesus Christ, he's got another one," one guard commented after they had finally subdued Joker. "At least the med team is already in here."

The faculty quickly went into motion to clean up the situation. All the inmates were kept in their seats until the room was cleared. Joker was naturally taken to solitary. The guard that had been cut had already been escorted out. Riddler was carted out quickly on a flatbed as a member of the medical staff phoned for an emergency pick-up. He already had breathing tubes shoved down his throat and the blood was still exiting his wounds.

"Alright Frankie, you're going to be just fine. It's not as deep as it looks, but we're shipping you off to the hospital so they can patch you back up right. I imagine you'll have a nice set of stitches, but don't worry about it. Chicks dig scars and you'll have an impressive story to go along with it," the doctor said, trying to keep conversation light as he applied pressure to Frankie's wound.

The doctor's words did little to comfort Frankie. The voice sounded like it was coming from far away and he wasn't picking up any of the content. Frankie was too busy wondering if he had chosen the right career path. He couldn't imagine dealing with this sort of thing on a day to day basis. He tried to tell himself that most psychiatrists didn't have to deal with such extreme cases and that he had the grades to make choices in the cases he took, but his mind inadvertently though 'what if?'

At that moment, the Riddler was carted in, looking far the worse for wear.

"Can't anyone get control of that maniac?!" the doctor attending Frankie exclaimed at the sight of another patient.

Frankie was too worried about his injury to turn his neck, but he did catch Riddler's general condition with his peripheral vision. "Mom always did want me to become a lawyer," Frankie decided with a weak smile.


	9. Chapter 9

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me again on such short notice," Jeremiah Arkham cordially greeted Harley, knowing full well she had no choice in the matter.

"My schedule was open," she responded with indifferent sarcasm.

"Quite. Let's get down to business then, shall we? First I should let you know that we are revoking your subscription to a certain tabloid."

"WHAT?! I didn't do anything wrong!" she protested.

"It has been tracked down as the source of recent 'issues'. I have the right to take away anything I deem disruptive. I will have order, Ms. Quinn."

"Good luck with that," she commented darkly.

"Let's move on. Joker is being brought out of solitary as we speak. Unfortunately, we've lost some ground over these past few weeks as you could not ensure he had been taking his medication while in there. I realize it's going to be more difficult given recent events, but…"

"'More difficult!'" Harley interrupted with a laugh. "You don't get it. It's over. Stick a fork in us. We're done."

"Don't be so rash Ms. Quinn. Remember, his health is still at stake here," he responded, struggling for her compliance.

Harley rolled her eyes. "What I want doesn't matter anymore. Why aren't you catching on? I already knew why he had issues with the medication and was using that information against him to make him comply with our demands. I threatened to take it public first. That's gone now. I've got nothing."

Dr. Arkham paused for a moment, momentarily defeated, but then pressed on. "The two of you have been together for awhile now. Surely you have something else?" he pleaded desperately.

"Sure I do, but I don't have anything that will work in this situation. That's the thing about leverage: You have to apply the right amount of force to get your desired results. I just don't have anything else strong enough to make this continue."

"Aren't you worried about his heart?" the doctor tried one last time.

"Of course I am, but there's nothing I can do about it anymore," she replied with a shrug. "'Sides, I miss him the way he was. The meds made him all wonky. I figure a happy life is better than a long one and neither of us has been happy with this arrangement."

He sighed. "It's that simple for you, isn't it?"

"People tend to over complicate life," Harley answered simply.

"You know…sometimes I envy you," the doctor admitted.

Harley smiled and at that moment Joker could be heard passing through the hallway. "HARLEY! GET OVER HERE! I'm going show everyone there's nothing wrong with me!"

Harley clapped excitedly in her seat and then went for the door. "Comin' Puddin!" Of course, the guard that had accompanied her to Dr. Arkham's office was still there waiting outside for her so she didn't get very far.

"Thankfully, _I_ come to my senses," Jeremiah said to the now empty room as he reached for his trusty bottle of aspirin.

* * *

Harley turned every corner with apprehension as she sneaked through the corridors of Arkham. But she wasn't making an escape attempt. She was on a mission, a very special mission, and it was imperative that she completed it before getting caught.

She backed slowly into a dark hallway where her destination lied. Stepping softly backward, she bumped into something that was clearly another person. Both her, and the unidentified individual screamed with surprise.

It was a janitor and Harley had to take her out before she alerted anyone. But before Harley took any action, the woman had dropped to her knees and pleaded, "Please, don't hurt me! I won't tell a soul. I promise!"

"You're lucky I don't have time for this and can't risk you making any noise," Harley hissed.

The woman nodded thankfully and began to back away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Harley snapped quickly. "Nuh-uh. I'm not trusting you based on your word alone. You're staying with me and you better keep quiet."

The poor woman submitted and trailed alongside the clown a few doors down where they were met with a coded lock.

"I'm going in here and takin' something and you're not going to say a damn thing about it," she instructed. The woman nodded in agreement.

Harley studied the lock. She had known the code long ago, but knew they had changed it since her license was revoked. She tried a couple of combination guesses which were obvious, like Dr. Arkham's birthday, with no success.

"I haveta get in!" Harley pounded on the door in frustration.

The janitor, who had been terrified and convinced that she was going to be killed regardless of what Harley had said, suddenly smiled with the look of someone who had brilliant idea.

"I know the code," she offered, thinking that surely her life would be spared if she made herself useful.

"You do?!" Harley exclaimed happily. "Punch it in! Punch it in!"

The janitor was very pleased with herself and did as she was told. The code was cleared and both women entered the room. Inside there were rows of filing cabinets that kept all patient records. On the left wall there was another door that Harley quickly went through: it was the Asylum's pharmacy.

Harley started gathering the pills that were Joker's blood pressure medication as she wondered why she didn't think of this solution before. "Thanks so much!" she happily conversed with the janitor. "My Puddin' really needs these and I know I can convince him to take this one little pill. Now everything is going to be okay!"

"Glad I could help," the woman tried to respond sincerely.

Both women were about to exit back into the hall. Harley had her hand on the door's handle, but had frozen in place. "…How did you know the code to this door? It's only meant for the medical staff," she asked suspiciously.

"Oh that," the janitor scoffed. "You know, people will throw anything away without thinking. Dr. Hensen is so absent minded he had to have written it down a dozen times."

"Uh-huh. Why'd you want in here so badly?" she continued, but it was clear she already knew the answer.

The janitor's smile dropped and she started to put distance between herself and Harley. "L-listen, I didn't m-mean to upset anyone. I'm a single mother and was st-strapped for cash. I d-didn't even know you read that m-magazine until it was too late. It all just got out of control!"

"You know what, honey? I have a feeling you'll be making some headlines of your own tomorrow," Harley turned and approached her with obvious intent.

With Joker back among the rest of the population, everyone fought hard not to make eye contact with him or even hint about what was revealed in the tabloid. It really helped that, at lunch the next day, there was an interesting rumor that had been circling the asylum, giving everyone something else to think and talk about. The topic of conversation was a dead janitor that was found in the records room. Harley had yet to be connected with it and giggled softly at her little secret.

"Harley, what's so funny?" Ivy asked curiously.

Joker explained simply, "Do I need to spell it out for you? Dead. Janitor."

Harley gestured everyone to lean closer to her and whispered, "I did it. Shhhhh," then falling into giggles again.

"But why?" Scarecrow asked.

"…Why not?" Joker returned, as though his question made no sense.

"She was the one responsible for all those articles!" Harley revealed excitedly. "I got her!"

Joker instantly and violently rammed her head against the table and held it there. "I WANTED TO DO IT!" he screamed.

The guards had been wary of the clown and, upon hearing the commotion, turned all eyes his way. Joker was aware of the situation, so released Harley and hissed, "We'll deal with this later."

Harley whimpered and rubbed a knot that was developing on her forehead.

"You'll do no such thing!" Ivy asserted. "If Harley had the opportunity to take her out, she'd have been stupid not to take it. We should all be grateful."

"Are you absolutely positive she's the one?" Riddler asked.

"Uh-huh," Harley confirmed, still massaging her head. "She knew the code to the lock and even admitted to it."

"Well, that's that I suppose," Scarecrow commented.

Suddenly Joker lit up. "Didn't I say that janitor was up to something! I called it! And you said I was being paranoid," he scoffed at Harley.

Harley sighed. "Good for you Puddin'. You saved the day," she muttered sarcastically.


	10. Chapter 10

Batman, dramatically perched on the corner of a tall apartment complex, surveyed what he could in the city below him. He hated dealing with this; it was so counter-productive. With most of the more colorful criminals of Gotham locked away, he felt he was able to make some real progress in the baser illegal activity in his City, which had been his goal all along. Common thugs were much easier to deal with and tended to stay locked away when they were put there.

Robin landed beside him, instantly made his way to the edge of the building, and laid down, one arm and one leg dangled in space.

"We've been searching practically non-stop for days," Tim pointed out to his counterpart. "I think I've gotten maybe two hours sleep in the past three nights and I know you haven't gotten any."

The dark figure didn't respond.

"Look, I know you're upset. I am too, but this isn't getting us anywhere but tired and that's dangerous," he continued undaunted. "You know as well as I do that Scarecrow and Joker will show themselves when they feel like it and, until then, the likelihood of us finding them is very small."

Batman finally spoke, "When they decide to show themselves, as you put it, there will be victims."

Robin sighed. He hated it when Batman treated him like that. He knew perfectly well how this all worked, but that didn't make what he said any less true. He also knew better than to argue the point any further and sat up, ready for action. "Alright, so where to now?"

To Tim's surprise, Batman backed away from the edge of the building. "…Maybe you're right," he conceded. "I am tired and, honestly, out of ideas at the moment."

Tim smiled with relief, but at that moment an otherwise relatively empty and quiet street below them suddenly broke out in commotion. Out of a sports bar poured a group of men who were obviously panicking. They ran screaming into the streets, constantly looking behind them for something that wasn't there.

"Scarecrow," Batman said darkly and swooped down to the bar with Robin closely behind.

In the middle of the panicked mob, they could now make out what was being screamed by the individuals. Mostly it was a combination of, "AAAH! FAGS!" and "They're everywhere!"

"What the hell?" Tim asked truly confused and beginning to freak out himself simply at the oddness of the situation.

Laughter echoed out of the bar that was very familiar to both of the heroes and did not belong at all to Scarecrow. They both instantly readied their antidotes to Joker's toxin, should it be needed, and entered the establishment.

Much to their surprise, they found both Joker and Scarecrow on the floor of the bar laughing hysterically. The two villians didn't put up much of a fight as they were far too lost in the moment. It was obvious that the excitement of their endeavor outweighed their planning process.

Harley's room at Arkham was directly across from Ivy's. They often enjoyed evening conversations, though Harley was far too melancholy to be talkative tonight.

"They say Eddie's out of critical," Ivy said, trying to start a conversation.

"That's nice," Harley sighed.

"Harley what's wrong? Is this about me?"

"I just…I'm just going to miss you, Red."

Ivy made a short, hard laugh. "Harley, you really don't need to dwell about it. You think I've just been sitting idle? I've been working on the problem and have made many breakthroughs already. I feel fine and plan to be around for long time yet. I'll let you know when it's time to start worrying, so stop trying to dig my grave."

Harley brightened up instantly. "Really?! Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I couldn't in front of everyone," Ivy answered. "I do like to hold a few cards of my own."

Suddenly, both women heard laughter echoing down the corridor. Batman was dragging Joker behind him and Robin had Scarecrow. Apparently, neither of the inmates had gotten over their case of the giggles.

"Welcome back, Puddin'!" Harley called.

"You're back already!" Ivy said in disbelief. "It's only been three days!"

As they were dragged passed the women's cells, they both called out in unison, "Totally worth it!"


End file.
